


Circus Boys

by her_imperius_condessy



Category: The Monkees (TV)
Genre: Circus fic, F/M, Murders Moste Foul, OC death, Pre-show, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 16:21:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/her_imperius_condessy/pseuds/her_imperius_condessy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George Dolenz has spent most of his life in the circus. When three new-comers join the show, everything is going to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Circus Boys

**Author's Note:**

> There will be OC Character death, some of it a little disturbing, so be warned. Also, the sex isn't to graphic, but it is there.

George Dolenz made his living by not being afraid of heights. One summer when he was young, his mother had taken him and his sister to the circus. George had been fascinated by the tight-rope walkers; their grace and agility, the adrenaline pumping through him from just watching…imagine the thrill of actually doing it!

A few years passed, and his mom took them to another circus. This year, he was ready. When the parking lot was so full of people that it was almost impossible to move, George slipped away from his mother. It took a while, but he made his way back to where all the performers were. He could remember the man who did the tight-rope act well; he had been wearing a green suit. George found him easily; he was sitting next to the pretty red-headed lady who had rode on the elephants. He walked up to them and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, mister?”

The man turned around. “Yeah, kid?”

“Uh, hi, my name’s George and I….”

“You want an autograph, kid?”

“No, I want to do what you do, walk on the tight-rope….”

The man and the pretty lady laughed. “It ain’t that easy kid….”

“I can do it,” George said stubbornly, refusing to budge.

He laughed again. “You’ll have to show me, kid.”

The lady grabbed his arm. “No, Fred! You remember what happened to the last kid who fell and broke his….”

Fred put a finger up to her lips and shushed. “No, May, we don’t wanna scare him….”

Unfortunately, George knew how to see through an act. His father was an actor, and George could tell when he was being put on to. “You guys are bull-shitting me,” he said plainly.

The two adults looked at the boy a little shocked. Then Fred spoke. “I like you, kid. Maybe I will take you on. We gotta talk with Hitch first, but I think he’ll take you. You want your first lesson now?”

George nodded eagerly, but he quite abruptly felt pain as the man boxed his ears. “Lesson one; never use that language around a lady again.”

George’s career in the circus had officially begun.

****

Years passed. George became an even better performer than Fred, being younger and also, carrying over some of the show business traits picked up from his father. A few nights when the owner didn’t feel up to it, George would even take over the announcements, standing in the center ring and calling up to all the people gathered under the big top. The rush never went away.

One day, Fred announced he was retiring, saying he was too old to go on in the circus as a performer. Although George was sad to see his mentor leave, he also relished that he was now the main tight-rope act in the show.

Shortly before George had been at the circus for ten years, just shy of his eighteenth birthday, a new act joined the circus. It was a magician and his wife; the Great Gorgini and the Lovely Anya.

And oh, was Anya lovely indeed….George watched her from backstage when she was on. Her stage costume looked like something he had seen out of Yaveen the contortionist’s fetish magazines. She wore all black leather, her boots reaching half-way up her thighs, which were covered in fishnet stockings. Black garters held the stockings up and they were just covered by the black dress she wore. The black dress ended just below her butt and started only half covering her breasts, giving the impression that any moment now she could ‘accidentally’ pop out. George always got a thrill from watching her.

George couldn’t always tell why Anya was still with Gorgini; he wasn’t a pleasant looking man, and was very much into his theatrics, so much to be said he over did it. He was never not wearing his stage costume; always in a black suit with the customary long black cape. And he looked creepy, thick dark brows and a black mustache and goatee. Not a man to run into in a back alley.

One night, George was outside his trailer reading one of the few comic books he had picked up the last time he was in town and he heard a slam and someone yelling. He was about to get up to investigate but Anya came into the clear circle between all the trailers and she was crying. He wasn’t sure if he should try and hide himself or make himself be known, but Anya made the choice for him.

“How much did you hear?” She asked, looking right at him.

“I just heard a slam,” he told her, lying.

She walked over and sat beside him next to the door, drying her face as she went. “God, sometimes I can’t stand that man….”

George nodded. “Yeah, he’s a creep.”

They sat in silence until George couldn’t stand it anymore. She was wearing a coat, but he could tell she was still wearing her stage out fit on underneath it. He wanted her, he needed her now and he couldn’t hold the desire in anymore. He tried to come up with some cleaver way of coaxing her into the trailer with him.

“You wanna come in for some coffee,” he asked lamely, inwardly cringing as he said it.

“Coffee? Is that what you kids are calling it now?” Anya stood up and opened up the door. “You coming, or not Dolenz?”

George’s mouth was hanging open in shock that his plan had worked, but he hopped up and followed the woman into his trailer.

She stood with her back to him, observing the room she was in. The trailers were all the same; two rooms, a kitchen-living-dining-bed room and a bathroom with a toilet and a small shower, what made them all different was the people who lived in them. George’s could’ve passed for any teenage boys’ rooms. Posters of whatever he was interested in lined the walls; Bridget Bardot, Elizabeth Taylor, James Bond movie posters, and Elvis.

Stacks of music, film, and science magazines filled up most of one corner and a strange metal thing sat in another corner. It was the robot that George insisted would one day work.

He walked up behind Anya and slid her coat off her shoulders, his hands shaking slightly as he did. He kissed her shoulder and she moved her head so he had clear access. He moved the coat off more, running his hands down her arms until he reached her elbows and then he stopped. Opening his eyes, he realized he could finally free those beautiful, full breasts from her impossibly tight dress that she always wore. He wrapped one arm around her front and pulled her to him tightly and he reached over her shoulder with the other and slipped his hand in the front of her dress.

Anya hadn’t expected such a bold move so soon from him and it caught her off guard. She moaned and her head fell back against his shoulder. He moved so he was kissing her lips, pulling her even tighter to his body. She moved away so she could shake off the coat but moved right back into his arms, turning around so they were face to face.

George put his hands on her back and felt ties. “Is this how you get the dress off,” he asked, surprised at how low his voice sounded. She nodded and turned around for him.

“Do I start at the top or bottom?”

She chuckled. “Top. You’ve never done this before, have you?”

He shrugged and began untying the stays effortlessly. “Does it matter?”

“I guess not….”

They remained silent as George undid the dress. As he went down, his fingers began to just whisper-touch her bare skin, making goosebumps pop up all over her body. He wasn’t unaware of this. The whisper-touches sent cold chills through him as well.

The stays ended at the base of her spine, so George slipped the dress off over her hips. He hooked his thumb into her panties and pulled them down at the same time. She moved to take off her boots and garters, but he stopped her.

“Maybe you’ll leave those on?”

Anya blinked at him, once again surprised at the precocious young man. Maybe he wasn’t as much of a virgin as she had thought….the comic books had been a clever guise.

“You’re full of surprises tonight,” she said, moving towards him and pulling his shirt out of the waistband of his pants.

He allowed her to undress him the same way he had did her. When she was finished, she backed him up to the couch and pushed him down on it. Anya climbed onto his lap and wrapped her legs around his waist. George instinctively put his hands down on her behind to hold her in place.

She moved so he was now in her, and she moved against him, causing George to moan loudly with pleasure. She moved harder, faster, and then harder and faster still. He didn’t even realize he moving with her until he felt a vague pain from where the rough fabric of the couch was burning his skin. Oddly enough, the pain only added to his pleasure.

Clearly, it was adding to Anya’s pleasure as well. She was moaning just as loudly as George, gripping his shoulders almost painfully as she moved faster and faster until he couldn’t stand it anymore and they simultaneously let out near-screams of complete ecstasy.

They collapsed back on the couch together, neither having the strength left to even sit up straight. George felt himself beginning to shake. Anya reached up and touched his face.

“You alright, babe?”

He nodded. “Yeah….I think so.”

Lost in the soaring feelings that were running though his head, George began to drift off to sleep. When Anya could hear him beginning to snore lightly, she unwrapped her legs from him, put her coat back on and left silently.

****

Anya walked into the trailer she shared with her husband. He was sitting at their small table drinking tea, probably with some bourbon mixed in. To her surprise, there was a young blonde man lying on their bed, fast asleep.

She pointed at the boy. “Who’s that?”

Gorgini shushed her. “A boy I found passed out in the lot. I think he’s very ill.”

“What make’s you say that?”

“Moaning in his sleep, his fever just passed. He had no identification, no money, and no one’s been looking for him….”

The boy moved around some in the bed, and then his eyes opened a little.

“Hey, he’s waking up!”

Gorgini walked over the bedside, nudging his wife out of the way a little. “Hello. How do you feel?”

The boy sat up. “Where am I?”

“You are in Hitch’s Circus. I am the Great Gorgini, and this is the Lovely Anya!” Anya waved irritably as Gorgini made a flourish with his cape.

“I….My name is Peter.”

“And where are you from?”

Peter thought about it. “Connecticut. But I didn’t like it there because people made fun of me. So I moved to New York. Lots of weirdoes in New York. Then some friends of mine said to come with them to California. Are we in California?”

“No, we’re in Texas. But we going to California, if you need to get there. But it’ll take some time, and you’ll have to work…..”

Peter smiled brightly. “I can work!”

****

George woke up the next morning still operating on the buzz from the night before. The backs of his legs still hurt, but the pain was easy enough to ignore.

He had gotten cleaned up and ready for his day, going by his usual routine. He was doing his pre-rehearsal stretches when there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” he called.

Anya came in, followed closely by a guy maybe a couple of years older than George. “This is Peter,” Anya said shortly.

George stood to shake Peter’s hand, but the new kid was to entranced by the posters on the walls to notice. George laughed a little.

“So what’s up with him?”

Anya shrugged carelessly. “He’s your problem now. Gorgini said he needs a job so you’ll give it to him. Oh, and he’s your new roommate, too.”

George opened his mouth to protest, but Anya pressed herself against him to whisper in his ear. “You remember last night? If you ever want that to happen again, you’ll have to do what I say.”

George couldn’t remember telling himself to nod, but it was the next thing he did. Anya smiled seductively at him as she leaned away and ran a hand down his chest and just ever so barely grabbed at his crotch. He made an odd gulping noise and turned bright red as she moved out the door, leaving him alone with Peter.

****

George soon began to like Peter a lot. They got along well enough to be roommates, and George soon found him a job as his own assistant. If he asked Peter to do something, he always did it right, just the way George showed him and without question. And he was honest. ‘How was that, Pete?’ ‘Well, the ending was a little sloppy.’ ‘Cool. I’ll try it again.’ And Peter was attentive, making him an excellent spotter. Soon, the two boys were working like a well oiled machine.

One evening, after a show, while George was changing out of his stage costume, Anya slipped into the trailer. She wasted no time in launching herself at him, kissing him furiously, forcing her hands down into his pants. The act made him gasp, causing him to nearly choke on the gum he didn’t think had been in his mouth a moment before. Once again, she shoved him back onto the couch.

“Anya, we can’t. Pete’ll be home in a few minutes, and……”

Anya ignored this and pulled his belt loose, then unzipped his pants and pulled out the already hard penis. With a gentleness George didn’t think Anya possessed, she kissed the head, and barely ran her tongue over it. It was the whisper-touch again that sent George’s skin into chills.

Now she was taking him slowly into her mouth, sucking gently, and taking more of him in with her with every suck. George had completely forgotten all about Peter.

When Anya was finished, she simply stood up and left. George stayed on the couch, not really able to move, and tried to remember if the woman had said one word during the whole episode.

****

That night, George took Peter to see the Great Gorgini and the Lovely (more like dirty whore, George wanted to say) Anya do their magic act.

Peter watched the show with a child-like wonder that made George see the act in a new light. Even though he had seen the act fifty times, this time it was different, almost exciting. With Peter next to him, he could watch the show the same way he did.

The only bad part came when Gorgini was about to saw Anya in half. Peter looked at George with a half terrified, half tearful expression. “George, we’ve gotta stop him! He’s gonna saw Anya in half.”

“No, he’s not. It’s just a trick, Pete, an illusion. She’ll live.” George thought to himself ‘can you live with no soul?’.

Peter looked at him wide eyed. “You promise?”

George couldn’t help to laugh. “I promise.”

Peter gasped with relief when Anya got out of the box in one piece. He told George he was going to make sure she was doing fine and he ran off before George could call Peter back. Had he known what was going to come of the meeting he may have tried to keep Peter back harder. But then again, he may not have.

****

Gorgini was mad at Anya. He knew she was sleeping around with someone else, but he didn’t know who it was. He questioned her about it after the show that evening, but she told him he was imagining things; why would she want to sleep with anyone else? Gorgini got mad and lost his temper. He was storming out of the tent as Peter came walking up to check on Anya.

Peter watched him walk past, not thinking a thing of his red face and shaking fists. He went in; Anya was lying on the floor, her shoulders shaking gently. She was trying to sit up. Peter knelt down beside her.

“Anya?”

“Go away Peter.”

“Do you need any help?”

“I…..yeah, help me up.” Peter scooped her up easily in his arms, surprising her a little, and he walked her over to the pile of cushions in a corner of the tent. He lay her down, inadvertently lying down on top of her for a moment. He moved himself to get up, but Anya grabbed his arms to keep him in place. Another idea was coming to her.

“Peter, don’t leave me.”

He looked down at her, wide-eyed. “I won’t.”

She pulled his head down so he was resting it on her chest. Peter couldn’t breathe.

“He tried to kill me, Pete.”

“With his magic?”

Anya nearly laughed; oh this was going to be too easy! “Yes, with his magic. He needs to be stopped! I just wished there was something I could do….”

Peter looked up at her fearfully. “You aren’t going to kill him are you?”

“No. The magician can’t be killed….” Anya paused to think. “But we could but him in an enchanted sleep.”

Peter stared with awe in his eyes. “You can do that?”

“Sure. I’ve watched him for years, I can do some of his tricks. All I need to do is, uhm, go into town and get the supplies. I make a powder and you can slip it in his drink….”

“Wait, why me?” He interrupted.

“He’ll suspect me. But you….you’re so innocent, he’d never guess!” Peter nodded. It made sense. “I’ll come get you when it’s all ready. And when the magician’s asleep, I’ll be free and I can use his powers for my own. Any dreams, any fantasies you’ve ever had, I’ll make them come true….for you, Peter.”

Peter’s mouth fell open; if he had had the presence of mind to do so, he would’ve told her that all his fantasies were already laid out under him. Anya pushed him up. “I need to rest,” she said, giving him a shove towards the door.

****

A week later, Anya’s plan was all laid out. She had gotten the arsenic powder from a friend she knew in town and she had split it in half. Part would go with Peter so he could poison her husband. The other half was for Peter to drink himself. She almost regretted having to do in the young man, but he knew both too much and too little. She didn’t trust him.

And then there was the Dolenz fellow. He had been hanging around, snooping, trying to find out what she was doing and why Peter was suddenly singing her praises day in and day out. She avoided him easily at first, but now he was just annoying. She had a plan though, for distracting him until Peter’s part of that night’s double homicide was done with.

****

George was looking around, trying to find Anya. He knew that she had pulled his buddy Pete into her web of insanity and deceit. He had tried not to let the woman out of his sight all day, but she had somehow gotten away.

He walked past one of the larger storage trailers when he felt something pull him in hard, and he stumbled sideways through the door. He couldn’t see much in the dim light, but he could tell who dragged him in here; apparently, the hunter had become the hunted.

Anya shoved him roughly against a wall and pressed her whole body to him. George had had every intention of protesting, but as she moved against him he felt every rational thought leave him in one pleasured moan.

For a change, Anya wasn’t wearing her stage get-up, but she still dressed provocatively. She wore a tight fitting, low-cut sweater that did nothing to hide the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath. George pushed his hands up under the sweater, grabbing her a little harder than he usually would have.

“In a hurry tonight, huh,” she breathed at him, running her hands down in his pants again, but this time he pulled away.

“No, we can’t do this anymore….” George moved back to the door, but she grabbed him as he was halfway there.

“Yes, we can! And you will want to do this, if you want your little friend to live out the night.”

“Leave Peter out of this, you hateful bitch…..what’d he ever do to you?”

“Nothing….yet. But he knows to much. I can’t let him live, unless….” She finished her sentence by reaching out and touching George’s hips, pulling her towards him.

George groaned, not wanting to have to do this all over again….but he couldn’t just leave Peter like that.

George stretched out on the floor, pulling Anya down with him. She paused before straddling him, pulling off her panties and hiking up her skirt. She had already unzipped his pants and was about to pull his underwear down when he abruptly sat up.

He pulled the sweater off over her head and wrapped his arms around her torso, flipping her over on to her back. Anya had dominated the sex every time they had done it, and George felt it was his turn.

He kissed her roughly, moving his hands down to her waist to hold her where he wanted as he rammed into her. Anya hadn’t expected that. She gasped in some mixture of pleasure and pain that made George go crazy. He rocked back and forth with her. They were both moaning, nearing climax, when George had an idea.

He stopped his momentum immediately. Anya’s eyes flew open, her chest heaving. “What’s wrong?” She tried to move against him, but George shifted his position a little so she couldn’t move.

“You want me,” he gasped in her ear, nibbling at the lobe.

She nodded. “I want you.”

He moved his head down to her chest and kissed her right breast. Her nipple was hard.

“You need me?” He gently bit her, causing her to moan louder than she had ever before and her fingernails sank into his back.

“I need you.”

“Then you won’t kill Peter?”

“I’ll promise what ever you want!”

“You won’t kill him.”

She screamed. “Oh, God yes, I promise!”

George plunged back into her, finishing what he had started before. This time when they were finished, it was Anya who couldn’t barely move, hands and arms shaking so badly. She fell asleep in George’s arms. He gently unwrapped himself from her and was about to leave when he noticed her bag sitting on a table next to the door.

George had ever been a notorious person, even though it often got him into trouble. He told himself he shouldn’t snoop, but he couldn’t help himself.

The bag held several items, most of them notorious. A flask of something that had a note taped to it saying ‘For Pete’. One of the knife-throwers’ sharpest looking knifes that had a note that said ‘For George’.

He couldn’t breathe. He had known about her plan for Peter, but he didn’t think that she had a plan for him too. He glanced back at the spider-woman; she was still peacefully asleep, her hands over her head making her breasts plainly visible. George felt himself shake with anger. The woman needed to be dealt with, but how? By the poison or the knife?

George picked up the knife carefully. He crawled over to the sleeping woman and positioned the knife just above the left breast, where he imagined her heart would be if she had one. He took a deep breath and plunged the knife down.

Anya’s eyes flew open, wide with pain. She gasped and spluttered, coughing blood back up into George’s face. He turned around; he couldn’t watch her die and he covered his ears to drown out her coughing.

Minutes passed and he turned around. She lay in a puddle of blood, the full breasts that he had once been so enticed by no longer moving. George moved over to her, pulling her up so he could slip the sweater back on her. He didn’t want her to be found in such a humiliating fashion, even though she wouldn’t have done the same for him. He kissed her cold lips before setting her back on the floor.

“Oh, Anya, I’m so sorry.”

****

George went back to his trailer and cleaned up; getting all the blood off of him. He burned the clothes he had worn.

Peter came in the door. “Hello, George! Have you seen Anya?”

“No.”

“I need to tell her that Gorgini is asleep….”

George gasped. “That wasn’t supposed to be until tonight!”

Peter nodded happily. “It’s a surprise!”

George thought fast. “Pete, I’ve been thinking….It’s time to leave the circus. Head into LA, maybe join a band….”

“A band? I didn’t know you played anything.”

George shrugged. “Yaveen had a band going a while back but it died out. I’m a fairly good drummer. And I guess I can sing….You play a lot of stuff, don’t you?”

Peter nodded proudly. “Then let’s come on, Big Peter! We’ll find a band and hit it real big. There’s a lot more money in the music than there is in this circus.”

Peter followed his friend around the trailer as they packed up what they thought they needed. They were nearly a twenty minutes walk away from the tents when Peter remembered. “Hey, what about Anya?”

George sighed. “If it was meant to be, Pete, she’ll find you again.”

He accepted this. “And I don’t think I wanna be George anymore…..It’s gotten old.”

Peter accepted this, too. “Who do you want to be, then?”

“Micky. Call me Micky.”

 


End file.
